Have We Lost Our Magic

“DANCErs have always made the best Disney performers. 
Dancers and the very exclusive group of people known as animators. True animators. 
No matter what the choreography, complex or simple, the magic came from within the performers who had a passion for personifying a story passed down from creative genius. Artists, whose performances were relatable and tangible because they believed that what they were doing was far more powerful than the hundreds of likes they’d get on their all too perfectly posed Instagram posts. 
Our performers were inspiring; their energy directed outward towards, literally, the world.
Disney was a place to feel safe, included, welcome, and magical. It didn’t exist in vain. 
There was authenticity. 
Integrity. 
But the vision is lost. 
And because of it, the magic.
___

“Here you leave today and enter a world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.”
WD

take me back there."“ -

Anthony Aceves

I am going to be careful with my words here, because I want everything I am about to say to come from a place of pure honesty.

With all my shortcomings over the years there, and to the powers at be, my shortcomings are more like very large overt terrible qualities that I am consistently trying to make up for, I have always made my performance the most important part. What I love about working at Disney, is not the politics, or moments backstage that can often time be more difficult to navigate than they should be, it’s not the rewards of being called pretty, or getting a shout out, it’s never been about being a favorite, it’s never been about the amount of roles I knew, or which roles it was for that matter… and it sure as hell was never about making superficial friendships with strangers who’s cameras could capture my best angels. The reason I have stayed there, after all that I have been through, has been for the joy I feel, from step off to step down. In all 31 years of being on this Earth, I have not found a space that I feel more seen, that I feel more myself, a place that I feel like no one is judging me, ever. EVER. Backstage, I needed to be the best dancer, the most trained, the prettiest or the youngest, the nicest, or the sweetest or the most kiss assestest. Backstage I needed to put myself in a box that made it easier to digest all that was me, be it too real, too loud, too honest, maybe to black at times, too aware of things that were unfair, ridiculous or just annoying. 
If I had a dollar for the times I felt like I just didn’t belong, I would be rich. It happens often and frequently... Yet the route has leveled the playing field… 

Onstage, I was able to shine, I was able to make up for the things I may have done that were wrong, in poor test or laced in immaturity. The moments on route, to me, have been not only a blessing but a gift that have taught me that if you bring your entire self into something, wholly, someone will see you, not because you are TRYING to be seen, but because your light will come from a place so bright that people cannot deny you are in fact a star that shines bright. 

What scares me about where we have found ourselves recently, is that the joy of what we do, has been overshadowed by people who only find the joy in being in front. Every step is less about being the best they can be and is more about being seen. From picking up shifts, to only wanting to be in roles that are “better”, people have lost the reason why they are there while getting caught up in trying to remind the world, hey look what I do all day. I miss the days of critique and criticism, I miss the days of one role new hires who have to prove themselves worthy of more. I miss the days of respecting our choreographers, not only because they are there to help, but because they have been in our shoes and want the best for the bigger picture. I miss the days of respecting the route and treating it like a special place rather than a runway. I miss the days of respecting other performers and learning from each other as not only peers, but as humans, who are willing to continue to be a student and not just a star. I miss the days of getting off route and knowing that you did your absolute fucking best with the best people that day who all not only killed it with you but really fucking deserve to be there as much as you. I miss the connection with other performers on route, and the love within a unit that made you even better... I miss the days of vet’s being my heroes and wanting to be just like them because they defined what I wanted to be at Disney. I miss the way that route has been therapy for me, when life has been harder than I have cared to admit. I miss the days of being “stuck” in Under the Sea for YEARS, waiting for my chance to show people I could do more. I remember the feeling of being offered roles like ACF and MG for the first time my friends being happier for me than I was for myself, and me not taking it lightly, but doing my homework to prove to everyone I deserved to be there. I remember the moment of knowing that a choreographer or casting actually SAW me, and sees me and appreciates what I bring to the route, despite what I may have done or said the week before. And I don’t take that shit for granted because I WORKED FOR IT. 

So again, everything you have said here, is correct. The truth hurts. 

Within the last year, I made a choice to feel differently about my time at the mouse house. I am still not always happy with choices, but I can and have made a choice to never let it effect my performance, because at the end of the day, THAT is the reason why I am here. I respect the fuck out of the show, I always have. I am choosing to leave a legacy of what I left on route and not of what I did in the other moments. I hope that someday the new kids go through somethings, loose some things, and maybe find themselves in a reality check of what really matters there. Instagram filters cannot make you a better performer, a better dancer or a person who sparks joy in guest as you prance down route. We have lost so much of what makes what we do special… but its not the fault of the casting directors, show directors or choreographers, its up to the PERFORMERS. Period. It is a unfakably, pure, almost intense love of what you are doing, that comes out not only in our faces but also in each movement, every look, every moment of what we do, and honestly you either have it, or you don’t. But most importantly, you are either willing to look into yourself to find it, or you are not.